


So I build you a house from a broken home

by nomnom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, No Sex, OT4, Sad Louis, idk what this is, little bit, naughty boy is a piece of shit, why zayn why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:29:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomnom/pseuds/nomnom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis is sad.</p><p>(written because of the twitter drama I'm really upset :-( )</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I build you a house from a broken home

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys
> 
> Wrote this after the whole drama thing on twitter today. Anyway, this is just FICTION and a figment of my imagination. Honestly, not my best. :(
> 
> I hope you guys like it!!

Harry padded to their bedroom, the cup of Yorkshire tea warming his palms as he push the door open with his hips. The figure curled up under the blankets look so small like this, so small and defeated.

Harry set the mug down on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing Louis’ hair out of his eyes. Louis made a soft whimpering sound at the contact but nuzzled into Harry’s palm, tugging the blanket higher up.

His eyes were rimmed red, puffy and swollen, the usual spark and brightness all but gone, replaced by tiredness.

“Baby, I made you tea,” Harry said softly, running his thumb across Louis’ cheek gently. “Have some please? You didn’t have much during dinner. The boys are worried about you.”

Louis sighed and sat up, propping up a pillow behind him and sank into it. He took the cup from Harry and offered him a small but genuine smile. “Thank you. You’re too good to me.”

Harry pushed his hair back before climbing into bed with Louis, pulling the smaller boy closer to himself by the hip and pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head, “No, I’m not. I’m just being a decent boyfriend, you silly. Now drink up. Are you hungry? Want me to bring you something to eat, sweetcheeks?”

Louis shook his head and just snuggled closer into Harry’s arms, sipping his tea. Harry rubbed his back, running his fingers over the ridges of his vertebrae. He felt Louis melt and relax into his touch, the older boy setting the empty mug down and closing his eyes, nuzzling into the crook of Harry’s neck.

His thick eyelashes fan across his cheeks, there’s light stubble dusting on his cheeks and chin because Louis couldn’t find energy in himself to shave. He’s wearing Harry’s jumper, one that is far too big on him and falls to his thighs and the sleeves long enough to give him paws, but the lingering scent of Harry comforts him whenever he finds himself in this dark place. He breathes in Harry’s scent, fist tightening in Harry’s own sleep shirt.

“Why did this happen?” he whimpered softly, the movement of his lips ghosting upon Harry’s skin, spoken so softly it’s almost inaudible.

The brokenness and helplessness behind those words broke Harry’s heart and it pains him that this is hurting Louis inside and out.

He planted a kiss on Louis’ temple and wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, “I don’t know, Lou bear. Maybe it’s time to let it go. Don’t beat yourself up about this, please. You know it’s not your fault.”

“It might be, though. Maybe he would have stayed if I tried harder,” Louis said softly, voice breaking at the last word and he started to cry again, curing into Harry’s arms and tries to seek solace there.

Harry held him, whispering sweet nothings into Louis’ ear to try to get him to calm down again.

When Louis finally stopped crying, he was reduced to little hiccups, exhausted and in need of sleep. So Harry hums a soft lullaby, running his fingers through Louis’ hair to calm him, the other arm wrapped protectively around his boy. Louis’ holds onto Harry, one hands resting on Harry’s bicep while he tries to fold himself smaller, and tuck himself into Harry’s chest, as though he wanted to curl into something so small that he may just disappear.

Eventually, he lets Harry’s voice and scent and steady heart beat lull him to sleep.

\---

The next day, when Louis woke up, he was barely able to open his eyes because they felt so swollen and sore. The sunlight filters into their room through the curtains and wash their room in a soft glow. Harry’s side of the bed was empty, but it was still warm so Louis rolled over and tried to fit himself into the imprints Harry left.

He lets out a sigh after lying there for a little while more, before he sits upright, fingers combing through his bed hair. He winced when his legs touch the cold hardwood floor then padded slowly into the kitchen where Harry was at the hob making breakfast.

Louis’ wraps his arms around Harry’s waist and hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re up early,” he said softly, rubbing Harry’s tummy with his right hand.

“Wanted to make you breakfast, cutie.”

Louis stuck his tongue out, “I’m not cute. I look like a wreck. I feel like a mess. It’s a wonder why you tolerate me.”

Harry chuckled as he plated the food, “Because I love you. And I know you’re hurting so I’m going to take care of you,” he said, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Louis felt his cheeks heat up as he took the two plates of food to the table and sat down. He extends his legs so that the cold soles meet with Harry’s warm calf, making the younger boy flinch, “Hey! That’s not nice,” Harry said, lower lip jutting out and crosses his arms.

That coaxed a soft giggle from Louis, who reached over to feed Harry some eggs, “I know you’re not mad at me, you big baby.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” he huffed.

“I love you too,” Louis says before going to sit in Harry’s lap, arms wrapping around his neck. He pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s soft, so so soft, lips, “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Harry gives him a fond smile and kisses him sweetly.

Louis thinks he’ll be okay.

\---

Later in the afternoon, Niall came charging into their flat, hands full with the takeaway from Nando’s. Once he put down the food, he went barrelling at Louis and hugs him tightly, “Hey buddy, you alright?” he asked, tone careful and worried.

Louis shrugs, “Better than yesterday, I suppose.”

“That’s the spirit!” Niall said, smiling happily, “Now we shall feast. Later, we will battle, and I’m going to beat you at FIFA this time, Tommo.”

Liam arrives slightly later, when all the boys are sat around the tv, ready to eat. He goes over to Louis and claps him on his back, a small smile playing on his lips before ruffling Louis’ hair, “You look better, mate. I’m glad,” he said, before plopping onto the seat beside him.

After they demolished all the food and Niall had let out a loud ass stinky fart, they all sat around playing FIFA, cans of opened beer on the table. Louis was sat on the floor, between the V of Harry’s legs. He lets the younger boy play with his hair and watches Niall and Liam bicker about whether Ireland is the best country in the whole wide world.

They idle the day away, spent in each others’ company. It all feels natural, feels right and complete.

It’s been a while now. Harry is right; it is probably time to let it go.

And right now, with his boys, Louis knows he’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope all the boys are okay. xx
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments!
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://eczemawarrriorprincess.tumblr.com/) :-)


End file.
